


Mismatch

by PumpkinPatch



Category: Balto (Movies)
Genre: Post-Canon, Short, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2020-03-09 13:57:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18918385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinPatch/pseuds/PumpkinPatch
Summary: Double drabble of some shape and sort.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Double drabble of some shape and sort.

Days became weeks.

Weeks rolled over into a month.

A month went flailing and kicking into another. 

Months had passed. He was fairing decently, not catching enough to spoil himself, but snapping up hares whenever he caught a scent. He'd killed a fox once, a scrawny thing, its face had been open, voice screaming for a mercy he would not give. The dumb creature had hoped Steel would ease back from anything canine-looking.

What a fool, he'd eat a dog if he could catch one. Behind him, back _there_ , were many overfed, fat dogs.

Steele's eyes flickered towards movement, his teeth clenched tightly. He bounded towards it, a strange beast in the snow, whirling around him. Like they were locked in a dance.

Or a fight. He couldn't tell which. 

His eyes caught gold, then black fur, then brown. Around him were many wolves, and a pale white one too. He braced himself. Wolves were violent, mean. He'd go down biting and clawing their eyes and ears and – 

Among them was another dog, not a dog, a wolf.

No, not a wolf.

The eyes and scent didn't match, but he knew that face, that fur. She looked so-

He lunged.


	2. Chapter 2

He's a fool, surrounded by wolves and looking at them from every angle. He's put his money on defeating a single wolf, what appears to be their leader.

But she's no novice. Her teeth strike perfectly, her jaws close like a vice, he finds one ankle feeling sprained, and is amazed it's still attached when he sees how much blood it is covered in.

He cannot get a hold of her throat, not as she dances away from him. 

Snow fills his vision, and his paws are beneath him, pinned under him by his own weight. She has him by the throat, and she forces him to roll over.

Steele's resistance is nothing, he cannot move his paws, and once he can, he's flailing them, trying to make even a scratch. This wolfdog is not as much dog as she is wolf. He wants nothing more than to wound her.

His claws cannot, and his jaw puffs out steam and mist as she steps upon his chest. He's never seen this from her lookalike. A fierceness, a willingness to kill. She's ruthless. His funeral is held within her gaze.

He doesn't know what to say as she stares him down.


	3. Chapter 3

“Go.” She breathes. It's harsh and gritty. She holds no kindness.

He finds he cannot hold himself with the ankle she has rendered bloody, and watches the snow turn red as the wolves around him snicker. Their remarks prick his ears and stir his blood. 

But he hasn't the strength to turn his eyes from hers and try to silence the lot of them. Her hackles raised, her teeth and jowls dripping with blood. His blood.

He's not sure he's ever truly felt fear before now.

It's humbling.

 

“I can't.” 

“I said.” Her fangs are in his face, a breath away from taking his nose off. “Go!”

“I'm injured. I cannot walk.”

The pain is horrid, he falls to the snow as her jaws clamp upon his muzzle and he finds himself rolling onto his back deliberately to cease the assault. 

All he can smell now is his own blood.

They part, with her at their lead. 

Steele wants nothing more than to stalk her down. His wounded pride and ripped muzzle sting in the cold and the look in her eyes had been contempt. Like he was nothing before her.

Rising anew, he begins to limp. Following after them.


End file.
